


there are gators in west covina

by anthropologicalhands



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Conversations, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Rebecca comes to term with Nathaniel's decision to move, kinda in the gray, more gen than not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/pseuds/anthropologicalhands
Summary: Nathaniel's leaving for Guatemala, and Rebecca tries to be a good friend while coming to terms with her own mixed feelings.
Relationships: Rebecca Bunch & Nathaniel Plimpton, Rebecca Bunch/Nathaniel Plimpton
Kudos: 18





	there are gators in west covina

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been sitting in my docs for months now. Thought it might be time to see the light of day. Anyways, I was very curious how Rebecca initially took Nathaniel's departure in canon, since a) she struggles with feeling abandoned and b) one of the most interesting things about her and Nathaniel's relationship is that she is usually the one who leaves, so.

“Hey, thanks for meeting me on such short notice. And for being on time—I thought I had a few more minutes.”

Rebecca gives a careless wave of her hand as she takes her seat across from Nathaniel. “Oh, it’s nothing, believe me. Just the new, reliable Rebecca who shows up on time to see a friend when she says she will. Paula had to drop Tommy off at baseball practice and have a bit of a showdown with the other baseball moms, so she’s going to be a bit late, but you probably knew that already.”

Nathaniel gives a small huff of laughter. “Yeah, she mentioned...some of that. But thank you for the additional insight.”

Rebecca nods and picks up the table’s menu from its holder, trying not to look like she’s studying Nathaniel too closely. They haven’t sat down together for a while, and her curiosity is more than a little piqued as to where this meeting is going to go.

“So,” she drags out the word, going for perky-yet-relaxed. “How have you been?”

Nathaniel seems amused by her attempt at small talk. “You heard about my resignation.”

She winces; so much for being subtle. “Oof, uh, yeah. Was my poker face that bad?”

“No. My baseline assumption is that Darryl told everyone within a twenty-mile radius.” Nathaniel shakes his head, lips turned up in a slight smile. “And yet, I also have to assume that on my last day, at least half of the office will still be completely blindsided by this fact.”

“Yeah, that tracks,” says Rebecca, smiling fondly. She misses those weirdos sometimes. Even if they are just upstairs and are happy to buy a pretzel and chat.

“Yeah,” agrees Nathaniel, his own slight smile a mirror of her own, before he seems to come back to him, clearing his throat and averting his eyes.

“What are you going to do next?” she asks. “Interview somewhere else in town? Maybe Paula can put in a good word for you at her place!”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

“Why not?”

He squirms, uneasy, and she’s weirdly reminded of the day after they first slept together, when he went to her house to confess in the most bizarre way possible. She feels a prickle of foreboding along her neck, a sensation that something is not quite right.

“I'm not just leaving for another job," he explains. "I want to try something new. So...I’ve made arrangements to volunteer at an animal sanctuary,”

“Oh, wow,” says Rebecca, surprised. “Hey, congratulations, though! Working with animals will be a nice change of pace, huh?”

It's not what she expected from Nathaniel, but it sounds exciting, new, not bad. She can't really picture buttoned-up Nathaniel getting his hands dirty like that, but it still sounds fun. Maybe this weird edge is coming from somewhere else--she did have too much coffee this morning...

“I mean, they can’t be any worse than managing MountainTop,” says Nathaniel dryly, and Rebecca laughs, delighted, and that’s good. This is good. She is genuinely happy about hearing an old friend moving forward with his life. “That’s kind of why I asked you here—with my new commitment, I won’t be able to manage my work at the jail anymore, so we need to talk about redistributing my cases so we can keep things rolling.”

And that's a perfectly normal, reasonable thing as well. So why is her skin still prickling with unease?

“That’s true. So where is it? I guess it's not local?”

Nathaniel chuckles and shakes his head, smiling a little to himself. “Not exactly. I’m going to have to move—"

“Oh,” says Rebecca, an unfortunately familiar sinking sensation low in her abdomen. Still, she tries to muster some additional good cheer. “That’s…annoying, sorry. Where are you moving to? Like, Glendora? Fontana? Oh god, not back into LA, right?”

“Further.”

“San Diego?” A horrible thought occurs to her. “Oh god, not _Palo Alto_ —”

He snorts. “You couldn’t pay me enough to go back to the Bay Area.”

“Then where are you going?”

“The new position I’ve taken is in Guatemala. So, uh, I can’t help here. Obviously.”

It feels like the floor just dropped out from under her. Probably down to Guatemala.

“Wow, that’s…far.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Not that far. Less time than it takes to fly to New York.”

“Still, that’s far. And…fast. That is really fast. Like you’re, uh, really trying to get away from something, huh?” She faux-playfully punches him on in the arm – though as she can tell from how he recoils and grimaces, even as he tries to affect carelessness, not _faux_ enough.

“It’s a good opportunity, and I want to do something new. Sooner seemed better than later.”

“But you need, like, malaria pills. And to make sure you have all your shots. Do you have all of your shots?”

“I’m fully vaccinated, yes.”

“Oh, cool. That’s great. Perfect for when you just trot right off to Guatemala on a moment’s notice.”

Nathaniel frowns, more hurt than reproachful, and she has to look away even though she deserves both. She’s being too hard – she can hear herself being too hard, and taking his decision personally, the way she took Greg’s decisions personally. The way she took Josh’s decisions personally.

“Rebecca,” says Nathaniel hesitantly, but even as she leans forward, desperate to hear his justification, Paula breezes in.

“Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait, Julia needed to discuss this new account she wants me to handle,” says Paula, sinking into the third chair with a relieved sigh. “God, it is going to be a nightmare…sorry,” she adds, clearly catching the tension between them. “Uh, am I interrupting anything?”

“Nathaniel’s moving to Guatemala!” says Rebecca brightly, too brightly, so that a couple of people at the neighboring tables twist around to stare hard at them. Nathaniel squeezes his eyes closed, smile shifting to something pained.

Paula sits back in her seat, blinking. “Wow, that is…wow. Why are you going to Guatemala? Is this another thinking camp thing?”

“Nothing like that.” He clears his throat. “There’s an animal sanctuary that could use a lawyer on call, so I volunteered for the role. I need to try my hand at something new.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t expect that, but that sounds good. I’m happy for you. Doesn’t that sound good, Rebecca?” Paula’s hand rests on Rebecca’s arm, giving what is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Nathaniel is watching her like he can’t quite believe her reaction, which is fair, she supposes, but it doesn’t _feel_ fair, not when he is suddenly not going to be here anymore. And yes, she turned him down, and he did say that everyone deserves the life they want. She believes that as much as he did, but she kind of assumed that the life he wanted would still be here.

“Right, so good,” says Rebecca, smiling tightly. “It’s great, just great. Not surprising at all. Well, a little surprising, but still, good for you.”

She doesn’t miss the quick look Nathaniel shares with Paula, or how the pressure on her arm grows firmer. They are being ridiculous, she’s _not_ going to freak out. This isn’t like when Heather and Valencia dropped that double whammy that they were both moving.

It’s fine, it should be fine, why wouldn’t it be fine?

“Right,” says Paula, turning back to Nathaniel. “So, if you’re moving to Guatemala, I’m guessing you need someone to handle your cases?”

“Yes, exactly,” says Nathaniel, clearly relieved to be able to give a direct answer to a direct question rather than the one that Rebecca can’t help but telegraph from every line of her body. “I’ll be leaving in a couple of months, but I wanted to make sure that we got all of the details straight, so nothing gets lost in the shuffle, especially since you did start that nonprofit arm at your firm. I assume that it might be cleanest to direct most of my cases there?”

They spend the rest of the hour hammering out the details of the cases they are going to direct to Paula’s firm and the ones that Rebecca will take on, from her own familiarity with them. She forces herself to participate, and it’s not hard, because this needs to be done right, but she can’t quite meet Nathaniel’s eyes.

Nathaniel is the first to take his leave of them, and when he does, Paula turns right to Rebecca, her face sympathetic.

“I don’t want to hear about it,” says Rebecca immediately. “I know this reaction is irrational, and I will talk about it with Dr Akopian, but not right now.”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to go to Sugar Face,” says Paula, raising her eyebrows slightly.

“Oh.” Shoving a few pieces of sugary dough directly in her mouth sounds good, no matter what. “Uh, sure.”

Paula squeezes Rebecca’s arm affectionately. “It’s all right to be upset, sweetie. But this decision has probably been a long time coming. It’s nothing personal.”

Is it, though? Rebecca thinks unhappily, because everything (well, everything good) in Nathaniel’s life seems to be in West Covina, so why go away unless he was looking to run away from something, or someone.

Or her.

She’s spiraling. She can feel herself spiraling, and she takes a deep breath and counts in her head, trying to ease some of the heaviness in her chest so she can get out of this feeling, if only for the moment. If Nathaniel needs to go to Guatemala to get the life he wants, so be it. It could very well have nothing to do with her.

“Let’s get those donuts,” Rebecca says, smiling reassuringly at Paula, determined to appease her friend’s concern. “Can you treat? Since you have this big fancy lawyer salary now?”

~

Infuriatingly, Rebecca knows that part of it is her fear of abandonment acting up again. Even when they aren’t romantically involved, Nathaniel has always been something steadfast for her. She’s never doubted that he would return to her—a consequence of being too familiar with his pattern of thinking, and at times being uncomfortably aware that he’s reflecting her own thoughts and feelings and fear right back at her.

Except, what does that _mean_ , after everything that has happened? Her first impulse is to want to ask him to stay for her, an impulse she can immediately reject as unhealthy and selfish. She rejected him. There are no promises here, and she doesn’t want to lead him on by asking him to stay for her own security, not when she’s already done so much work but has so much work ahead.

Josh has moved in with George, and they seem to be getting along swimmingly. Greg is entirely absorbed in getting his restaurant up and running. Rebecca understands and wishes them well—they are all throwing themselves into different aspects of their lives these days, now that the entire Bachelorette sequence is behind them. Nathaniel’s evolved too—it’s not surprising that he might try to look into other ways to follow his own happiness.

How is it possible to be angry at someone for leaving, but have that anger be so slippery? It goes as quickly as it rises, because no matter how in the moment she might feel betrayed by his impending absence, the silence where his footsteps used to be, the space in the elevator, she can’t fault him for trying to change his life into a shape that fits him best. She remembers when he just used to be a suit—some stuffed shirt who was only looking to climb the corporate ladder. Realizing that his metaphorical suit was ill-fitting, it makes sense that he’s looking for something to fit him.

It’s only what they are all trying to do.

It would just be nice if it didn’t feel like there was a slab of stone in her stomach, weighing down good and healthy reactions to all of this, reactions that would let her be able to wish him well without ulterior motive.

~

“Good morning, Miss Rebetzel!” says Darryl cheerfully, his boisterous entrance triggering Rebecca’s own smile as she looks up from the dough she’s bending into shape.

“Hey Darryl. What’s shaking?”

“Nothing too much—well, actually, that’s not true. Hebby seems to think that every toy has a prize inside, so be careful about leaving any small objects around. I need to get her a new rattle.”

“Atta girl.”

Darryl beams. “I know. She’s starting to get into everything. But that’s not totally why I’m here. I wanted to ask if you could cater for the office.”

“Sure, what’s the occasion?”

Darryl blinks owlishly at her. “Oh, don’t you know? I thought Nathaniel would have mentioned it. See, he’s leaving—”

Again, there’s that floor-dropping-out-from-under-her feeling. Rebecca glares briefly at the tile beneath her feet, directing her ire toward it before glancing back up at Darryl with something resembling a decent smile.

“Oh, nope, nope, you don’t have to say it. Nathaniel did, in fact, mention his cross-country change of plans to me. You don’t need to say it again.”

Darryl, predictably as ever, brightens again. “Excellent! I just want to host a little shing-ding for him—entirely my own idea—that young man can be so insistent sometimes. He said I shouldn’t go through all of the trouble, but you know me and Bert, we couldn’t just let him slip out like that!”

Despite the heaviness of the feeling, Rebecca can imagine perfectly what Nathaniel would have to say to that, and brightens. “Of course not.”

“Would you mind catering?” Darryl presses. “I mean, Nathaniel still doesn’t eat that many carbs, but I’ve seen him here in the mornings sometimes, and you two seem to still be pretty close, so I think he’d really appreciate the gesture. Only if you have time,” he adds hastily.

“Of course,” Rebecca says, pasting on her smile to be wider than she feels. “Whatever you need. I am the pretzel queen, and there will be pretzels galore.”

“Perfect!” says Darryl. “I’ll send you the invite on Facebook.”

“Oh, you don’t need to—”

Less than two minutes after Darryl heads up to the MountainTop offices, Rebecca’s phone chimes with a new notification. She stares hard at _Nathaniel’s Guata-Go-to-Guatemala Goodbye Group Hang,_ the date set for the following Friday, and puts down her phone without RSVPing.

~

Rebecca isn’t quite able to identify how she is feeling, but whatever it is, it’s already trained her well—she’s going to get some kind of neck strain, with the way she’s turning to look every time the elevator bell rings. But, somehow, she keeps missing Nathaniel, and he hasn’t stepped foot in the shop once this whole week. It’s not that she wants to see him, it’s just that he could give her the courtesy of explaining—something to give her a little more context as to why he’s so desperate to leave West Covina, because by Wednesday she’s nearly talked herself out of going to the party at all, but she can’t quite bring herself to reject the event, either.

“Hey, so what’s the deal with this big Whitefeather order for Friday?” AJ asks, shouldering his way back through the bakery door. “Because I definitely checked that we have enough ingredients in the back, so do you want to make them tomorrow, or in the morning…Also, when do you want to take it up?”

“Actually, I was thinking that you could do it, AJ. You know, taking on more responsibility, have a little extra management experience to put on your resume.”

AJ’s glasses are catching the light particularly well today, but Rebecca can still tell that he’s rolling his eyes behind the lenses. “I practically run this place anyways, that won’t work on me. So what gives? What’s the big event, anyways?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it was a big event. Not really. It’s more of a…celebration of a new beginning, shall we say. Opening at the close.”

“So…does it have anything to do with Nathaniel leaving MountainTop?”

“You knew that? Why did you even ask me if you already knew that?”

“Because I wanted to know if that was what was making you weird or if it was something else. But I guess that’s what’s making this weird.”

“What? Weird? No, I’m not acting any weirder and, in fact, normal baselines are really—”

“What’s the deal? I thought you turned him down. And it’s not like you were friends the way you were with Josh, right? Are you disappointed about the ratio of attractive male faces dipping again? Because Jim is handsome, even if he was a terrible manager.”

“It’s not that—no, you’re wrong. The internet exists for a reason. I don’t need Nathaniel Plimpton III around because I’m lacking in eye candy.”

“Then for his sparkling personality?”

“No.”

AJ hums like he doesn’t really believe her, and she can’t blame him. “So, are you going to take them up, or do I have to come in on my day off to make sure everything goes right?”

That nettles, and with a mighty mental shove, Rebecca feels the floor under her feet and pushes down that uneasy, tacky feeling right into her feet. Because at the end of the day, Nathaniel is her friend and the least she can do is take a few minutes to drop off food and wish him well.

“No, you don’t. I’ll take them up.”

~

She can do this, she’s resolved, she’s good.

“Are you really not going to stick around for the going away party?” Heather asks, nearly unseating her certainty, as she is wont to do.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Rebecca, striving to be cool and carefree and reasonable. “I’ll show up, but I figure that seeing the girl who rejected him a million times probably isn’t part of the goodbye party of his dreams, so I’ll just do us both the favor and skip that drama.”

Defending her actions against most of her friends is easy enough—smart as they are, most of them are more than willing to get caught up in her amusingly longwinded explanations. Not Heather, though. She likes to cut through the heart of the matter. She narrows her eyes at Rebecca now, scenting bullshit.

“Because the girl who rejected him a million times definitely isn’t moping because she thinks that by making an independent choice to take a job working with animals in another country, he rejected her. Right?”

“Don’t armchair diagnose me,” says Rebecca sullenly. “That’s unhealthy.”

“Oh, totally agree, but that’s not what I was doing.”

“What are you doing, then?”

“Making sure that you’re making a choice that you won’t regret.”

“What do you mean?”

Heather shrugs and picks at one of the pretzels. “I mean, you guys were pretty deeply involved for a while—kinda weird to just cut him off like a grangenous limb, right?”

Rebecca squints at Heather. “I thought you didn’t like Nathaniel—how did you end up in involved in all of this?”

“I _didn’t_ like Nathaniel—past tense. at all when you guys were dating or trysting or whatever you were calling it.”

“Supply shopping.”

Heather grimaces. “Ew. But to answer your question: I stuck with him, I saw him cry and somehow, like a fungus, he grew on me.”

“How?”

“I dunno. Contrariness, I guess? Hearing that he made a great singing madam helped, too. But for all of that Armie Hammer-in-Armani thing he has going on, he is just your brand of weird. Which kind of makes us friends.”

“Oh, wow. I guess that makes sense?”

“And, as a friend to both of you, friends don’t let friends leave each other in limbo.”

“Are you really giving me the ‘don’t hurt him’ speech for Nathaniel? Of all people?”

“Oh no, not at all. But what I am saying is that if you really don’t want to see him, just click the little ‘no’ button on the party RSVP –it’s the polite thing to do. Don’t leave him in limbo.”

Rebecca grunts and pounds the dough a little harder than necessary until Heather sighs and leaves, probably to go chat with Darryl. Then, because Heather is Heather and she does have a point, Rebecca opens the invite on her phone and clicks ‘Accept’.

~

After work, Rebecca dresses nicely, wears a red dress that is casual enough for an informal gathering, pretty enough to look like she made the effort.

Most of the MountainTop office is attending, and she’s greeted by a small chorus of her old coworkers, many of whom are quite soused already. Dodging Jim’s attempts at flirty banter and around Tim complaining and trying to avoid his wife, Rebecca maneuvers the pretzel tray over to the reception desk that’s now serving as the carb counter, then sets off in search for the guest of honor. She doesn’t see Nathaniel at first, which is good – it gives her time to collect herself, to figure out how to approach him as a friend wishing congratulations.

She can do this, she can do this.

Drifting through the different circles of former colleagues and friends standing and talking puts her at ease—setting up shop in the building lobby has kept them in semi-regular contact, and it does feel nice to catch up with all of them again. What was she thinking, that this would be difficult? This was her kingdom for three years—why would she have trouble moving through this space?

She ducks away from Kathy in Accounting and finally catches sight of Nathaniel, standing in a small knot in the back. His hands are in his pockets, he is laughing at something Darryl must have said—there’s a wrinkle in his forehead that means bemusement, not hysteria. Heather is making some kind of droll commentary.

It’s good to see him so happy. She’d like to see him happy up close. It would be very easy—just cross the rest of the room, let herself slide into place with a glib comment, and see him smile.

But when his gaze crosses and catches hers, Rebecca doesn’t. All she can manage is a quick wave, a too-bright grin, and a hasty exit.

He looks so happy that the end is near, and the floor is sucking at her feet—she can’t do it.

~

It’s the wrong reaction and Rebecca knows it all too well.

But what is she supposed to say? That she’s happy one of her exes is moving so far away, when she really isn’t, but that is the only thing to say because she doesn’t want to rain on his parade. It’s not his fault that his idea of happiness and her idea of his happiness turned out to be slightly crosswise.

She thought making the pretzels would feel something like a gesture, but the more she thinks about it, the more it feels like a copout.

But what is she supposed to do? It’s not like she was going to spell out I’M GOING TO MISS YOU with the pretzels—Darryl’s order wasn’t big enough to pull it off convincingly and besides, their dumb officemates would misconstrue it as meaning romantic feelings and then Heather might call that whole bet on again and that just seems like a _terrible_ idea—

Rebecca wants to be happy for him. She wants to show him that she wishes happiness for him, no matter whether they are together or not.

She goes home and tries to distract herself. Porn doesn’t do the trick, or musicals, or any of her usual distractions.

So she takes out the notebook she’s started keeping for her music, flips it open to a fresh page, and starts to write.

She writes out her jealousy, her sadness, her feeling like somehow, it’s about her, because if Nathaniel has decided that’s what he wants to do, she gets it, because she might do something of the same thing in his place.

She writes until a new solution presents itself, so simple and clean that she’s annoyed it took so long. when Rebecca looks up to the clock, she can see that it’s past midnight.

Well, she’s too jazzed to sleep anyways. She can write until it’s time.

~

Rebecca can’t help rocking back on her heels a little when Nathaniel opens the door, despite everything that has transpired between them here, despite her newfound resolution, her initial reaction is still very much an impulse either to dash the other way or barrel through, into his arms, ready or not.

“I’m taking you to the airport,” she says, without preamble. “Are you ready?”

Nathaniel is fully dressed, but his hair is still sticking up at odd ends. He squints at her.

“Since when are you up this early?”

“It’s not that early,” Rebecca defends. “It’s five in the morning. You used to call it an eminently practical hour to be awake in the morning.”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows shoot up high on his forehead, and she’s going to miss seeing his dumb confused face _so much_. “Don’t you remember your reactions to me telling you that? The ones that involved threats of bodily harm to various parts of my anatomy? Since when are you _willingly_ up at five in the morning?”

“More often than you think, though usually it’s because I stayed up all night because I have chronic insomnia. For this very particular instance, however, I will say that I wake up before 5 in the morning since I decided last night that I was going to take you to the airport.”

Nathaniel still looks baffled.

“Didn’t you get my text?” Rebecca asks.

“No?” Nathaniel pulls out his phone to check, right as it buzzes in his hand. He sighs and turns the screen towards her. “Just got it.”

“I guess it didn’t send in the elevator,” says Rebecca sheepishly.

“Right,” says Nathaniel, not sounding very convinced. He peers closely at her, not quite leaning into her space, but enough that she shifts self-consciously under his gaze. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she juts out her chin, projecting solidity and dependability, and hoping against hope that it does not count as her showing up at his door and dragging him into chaos again.

Nathaniel stares at her a bit longer, making her sweat, before he seems to come to a decision.

“Give me a second. I actually got an Uber this time and I need to cancel.”

~

“So, you might be wondering why I, Rebecca Bunch, showed up at your door to take you to the airport without talking to you about it first.”

“I assume I’m about to hear a reason,” says Nathaniel. “Especially after the party last night. I kind of assumed it was a closed deal.”

He sounds carefully neutral, a tone that she’s affected herself more than once, after she mastered her tendency to lash out with unwarranted accusations, but still struggled with handling her emotions and keeping them from leaking into her voice and coloring words. Rebecca’s grip tightens on the steering wheel, anxious.

“I’m sorry. I really, really wanted to go say hi, but I saw you talking about how happy you were about leaving, and all I could think about was that I wasn’t, and for very selfish reasons, and I just couldn’t be there anymore.”

“Why not?” asks Nathaniel softly, the way he always did when he didn’t know where they stood, like he was walking the tightrope strung between their emotions and was not sure if it would hold but still willing to stick his foot out anyways.

Rebecca worries her lip between her teeth, squinting to see beyond the lights of the other cars on the freeway.

“Gators,” she says abruptly. “It’s because of gators. And if that sounds non-indicative, that’s because it’s going to be a metaphor and I’m going to need you to stick with me through it.”

“…Okay?”

Well, she knows she has his attention.

“Right. Look, I know the last few months have been…crazy for all of us, but especially us because, before the dates and everything, it was just you and me. We’ve had a lot of back and forth, haven’t we?”

“We have.”

“It’s a lot of history, even if that whole…date situation never happened. And while I think that it was the right choice, and I can totally understand if you never wanted to see me again, you didn’t really give off that impression when we talked and…” she falters and clears her throat. “What I kind of assumed, is that of the three of you guys, you and I could still be friends.”

For the first time since she’s picked him up, she sees a shadow of a smile flicker across Nathaniel’s face.

Emboldened, she continues. “Because, I know there are a lot of gators in West Covina. Stuff I haven’t dealt with, or need to deal with. Consequences to be had, not in a repentance-going-to-jail way, but in a living-with-the-consequences-of-your-choices way, right? In that you can’t kill gators on your own, not without some serious risks to your own person, but you can figure out how to navigate the rivers without disturbing them and hopefully getting to clear water. Are you still following?”

“I think so. And I assume you don’t mean one of those boats that harass the alligators for tourists, right?”

“Exactly. Because gators are surprisingly quiet underwater. They just sink and vanish, so if you aren’t careful, you can find yourself in a very volatile situation.”

“Just to be clear, our personal problems are the gators in this metaphor, right?”

“Right. And my relationship with Josh and those problems, and my relationship with Greg and those problems. Just…a lot of problems. But it seemed that, after we talked, that rather than me having to go to a different river, it seemed like we could navigate the gators together and maybe, finally, figure out a lasting way to be friends.”

She tries to sneak a glance at him but almost immediately is forced to look away.

“But when you said you were moving, it felt like—even though it was about as personal as me choosing to focus on my songwriting—it felt like rather than dealing with the gators, you wanted to just go swim in a different river and leave me on my own to deal with the West Covina gators. And even though that shouldn’t have hurt…it did.”

Nathaniel is silent, jaw working, clearly processing her somewhat-extended metaphor. Rebecca grips the steering wheel tight and wills herself to remain calm.

“I mean, the only gator I know that still lives in West Covina is the one on your bed, and she’s pretty friendly. I wouldn’t leave you alone if I didn’t think that you and I hadn’t already dealt with the scarier ones.”

Rebecca laughs, entirely unexpected.

“So, you get what I’m saying, then?”

“I think so.”

“Because Nathaniel, this is important. I’m really, honestly happy for you. I was happy when I heard the news that you quit MountainTop and I will be happy that you’ve changed your life like this. And it’s not—this isn’t a love confession, by the way. I don’t want to keep you in the wings or anything. I want you to have the life you want,” she says, sincere. “Whatever that means.”

“I hope not, because that is worse than any of mine ever were.”

They both laugh, this time, and something breaks the awkwardness between them.

“Thank you for being happy for me,” Nathaniel says, with an earnestness that makes her ache. “And for the record…this is meant to be a sabbatical. It’s not a permanent move.”

“It’s not?”

Nathaniel shakes his head. “I kept the lease on my apartment. I’ll be back.”

Warmth blossoms in Rebecca’s chest. “You didn’t mention that.”

“You didn’t give me a chance. And I didn’t…I wanted it to be clear that I’m leaving and coming back on my own terms. I’m not trying to count on your reaction for validation.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t actually know what to expect.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Well…you know how I am about keeping things clean. And I like animals. In theory. If I don’t like them to the degree I think I do, this is going to be a very long two years.”

Right. Somehow, she’s relieved at the mention that it’s going to be a little difficult for him, too. Maybe she should have felt uneasy, but she feels reassured, that this big thing he’s doing is scary to him, too. It’s not the obvious solution to all of his problems.

“That’s good. That’s really healthy. And, for the record, I think it’s cool.”

He looks at her, eyes wide in that way that makes him look so young, sometimes. “You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re a good lawyer. You like lawyering. But now it’s more fun. A lot more work, but I mean, still good stuff.”

She can feel him looking at her, and when she glances back, he’s looking out at the faint pinkish horizon, where the sun is starting to come up, and she can see that slight smile of his, and that knot in her chest loosens at the knowledge that she caused it.

~

There's something familiar about this scene. Same airport, different guy, different circumstances. Only this time, she’s not trying to get in the way of the guy's departure for a new future. In fact, she's actively enabling it.

“This isn’t a forever thing, you know,” says Nathaniel. “It’s just a sabbatical, so I can figure out what I want. I’ll be back eventually.”

Rebecca sniffs. “Yeah, you better. Remember, I’ve done this whole change up your life routine, too. I didn’t go back.”

“Well, I mean, I would never go back to New York either. But West Covina…” Nathaniel rocks back on his heels. “There’s something in the water there. I don’t think you can get it anywhere else.”

Rebecca laughs shakily and swipes at her eyes, wishing she could blame the way her vision swims on her late night. “Sounds like you’ve been spending too much time with Bert.”

“You know what I mean—metaphorical water.”

“The metaphorical water with the metaphorical gators?”

He smiles. “Yeah. I think I like the metaphorical gators better than real ones.”

“But you’re going to a place with real gators now.”

“Yeah. I’m not really looking forward to that part.”

“Please don’t get eaten by a gator. That would suck so much if you’re getting away from the metaphorical gators only to be eaten by a real one.”

Nathaniel laughs thickly, and the suspicious sheen in his eyes is definitely not metaphorical water, not with the way he blinks hard to clear them. “Of course. All of my wrestling of gators will be strictly metaphorical. Promise.”

“Good.”

When he hugs her, it’s not as good as their other hugs, hampered by the bags hanging off his person and her having to go up on her toes, but she still inhales deeply, and savors the feeling of being secure and grounded.

But then his arms loosen, and she lowers herself back to solid ground, and Nathaniel goes up the escalator, becoming impossibly small. At the top, he gives Rebecca a tiny wave.

She returns it. Then she takes a deep breath, and walks away.


End file.
